numerum unum

So I created this blog primarily, I think, as an avenue for my poetry. And I like to muse... that's what people do on here, right?

The title, "Venite, Inveniteque Eum" (pron. weh-NEE-teh, in-weh-NEE-teh-queh EH-oom) is Latin for "Come, and Find Him". I wanted something biblically, and also some way to show off my extensive yet dwindling knowledge of the language... ;)

So pedantic, I know. (Isn't it funny how that word sounds exactly how it means? Only pedantic people say the word pedantic).

Well let's begin. I'm 20. Just turned it. Feels weird. Done with the first two decades of my life.

Ok... you must know that I am a fractal thinker...I just intended to give you my background... and now I don't want to... got sidetracked by a desire to get to the point. Only I don't know quite what the point is...

Well... here is one of my poems...

The Evan Dunn Action Figure

I was born with a brain,
but where’d that come from… again?
I was born with gifts and vices,
with a body and it’s bonuses and banes,
So how can I brag? How can I boast?
See me in the morning, and I’m just like you,
Groggy, needing coffee, making toast,
and drinking juice, spending most
of my time
reading news.

But just like you I fall flat on my face,
so often needing wisdom, lacking grace,
Despite my fool belief
that I cause no grief,
but rather bring relief
to those around me.
I’m shorter than I think,
and taller than I believe.
Half the time I’m prideful, the other half
I’m embarrassed out of my socks, so I leave.

I was born, too, with a Mask,
my personal boa constrictor,
disallowing me to bask,
outside my dark’ning visage,
my restrictor,
my pet perpetual presage,
an internal message
of an eternal truth,
that, though I know good and evil,
I remain, regretfully,
blissfully,
woefully,
willingly
uncouth.

Fallen World Incorporated presents
The Evan Dunn action figure—
Batteries not included;
Righteous soul sold separately;
See Jesus for details
Can’t you see what I entail?
I am a man!
Powered only by God’s battery hand!
and without that hand in my life
I can never top my strife,
Much less
conquer death
…
and I struggle for
breath…

I’m telling you,
put all your eggs in the Easter basket
then, when you hit the casket
there’ll be no more Mask, it
simply fades away
‘cuz in the light of Resurrection day
darkness cannot stay.
So I put my toast in Him,
Green Eggs and Ham in Him,
my bacon and bagel in Him,
and coast in Him,
and my midnight snack as well,
my cookies and milk,
in Redeemer to Heaven, Deliv’rer from Hell,
‘Cuz you see, my fair ilk,
If you put your eggs in the wrong bowl,
though you get to keep your Mask, it
will bring you to your casket,
and not of your body—
of your soul.
_____

This is my most recent, and favorite, of my slam poems.

The italicized section is in a deep announcer-like voice.

I intend to use this one for both Christian and non-Christian audiences. I'll analyze more later.
Now it's time for bed since my alarm will ring at 5 tomorrow morning.

Valete, amici